MY FATHER'S MANUSCRIPT
grandfather treated me—I may say it without pre-sumption—as a friend, having known me from child-hood as his father's librarian'
It did not strike me at the time how old the man must be.
' May I ask where you live now, Mr. Crow ? ' I said.
He smiled an amused smile.
' You nearly hit my name,' he rejoined, ' which shows the family insight. You have seen me before, but only once, and could not then have heard it !'
' Where was that ? '
' In this very room. You were quite a child, however !'
I could not be sure that I remembered him, but for a moment I fancied I did, and I begged him to set me right as to his name.
' There is such a thing as remembering without recognising the memory in it,' he remarked. l For my name —which you have near enough—it used to be Raven.'
I had heard the name, for marvellous tales had brought it me.
I It is very kind of you to come and see me,' I said. ' Will you not sit down ? '
He seated himself at once.
4 You knew my father, then, I presume ? [
'I knew him,' he answered with a curious smile, ' but he did not care about my acquaintance, and we never met.—That gentleman, however,' he added, pointing to the portrait,—' old Sir Up'ard, his people called him,—was in his day a friend of mine yet more intimate than ever your grandfather became.'
Then at length I began to think the interview a strange one. But in truth it was hardly stranger that